Why Did It Have to Be You?

by Allyson Charles

“Shit, Connie, I didn’t mean…I mean…”

  “What are you talking about?” Her chest caved in on itself, shoulders rounding forward. “Why would you say that?”

  He grabbed her hand, not letting her pull away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget I said anything.”

  She gave up tugging on her hand. “Why would you lie?”

  His heart pounded in his throat. He knew he should reassure her, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. He wouldn’t lie and take it back.

  The muscles in her face slackened at his silence. A dreadful resignation hollowed out her gaze. “You’re not lying.”

  He gave a terse shake to his head. “I wish I was.”

  She slid her foot back to the floor and faced front, her body as rigid as the fence post he’d installed. “Take me back home, please.”

  He squeezed her unresisting hand. “Connie, it was when you were still in college, and he was home without you for six months because he graduated early.”

  “Are you trying to excuse him?” Her voice was an even monotone.

  “No.” But was he? He’d pretty much defend the devil himself right now if it would make the vacant expression disappear from Connie’s face. And much as David hated Caleb for having what he himself wanted, David knew that Caleb hadn’t been a bad guy. He’d made a huge mistake, one that he’d regretted, and begged David not to tell Connie. Now he’d broken a promise to a dead man. As if he could feel any worse.

  In a low voice, David finished the story. “You were away and he was lonely and stupid. He had too much to drink one night, and I caught him in the bathroom of a bar with some woman. He begged me not to say anything—”

  “I’m surprised you agreed,” she said. “There was your chance to take him down and you passed it by.” She swiveled her head around to look at him. “That seems out of character. Why should I believe you? Believe any of this?”

  “There’s no reason you should believe me.” But she did. David could see it in her eyes. And there was the hell of it. He hadn’t thought she’d believe him back then, when he wanted her to get mad and dump Caleb. And now he wished she didn’t believe him. He’d crushed her faith in the one man she’d loved, and it was like her light had gone out.

  “You were always jealous of Caleb. I just never thought you’d…” Her voice cracked, and she clasped her hands tightly together.

  Cranking on the ignition, David wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, and stared out the windshield. Ice spread through his stomach, and he welcomed the numbness. Anything was better than feeling so raw and exposed. “Of course I was jealous of Caleb.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. “He had you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Connie stepped out of the meeting hall tucked against the side of a local senior center. Sunlight reflected off the cars in the parking lot, blinding her, and she dug in her purse for her sunglasses. A muted conversation grew in volume, and Connie knew some other people from the meeting were about to exit. She scurried to her car.

  It was still awkward, discussing her life and her drinking with a group of virtual strangers. But after the bombshell David had dropped on her, going to a meeting had seemed the smart thing. She’d listened to the four other attendees discuss their struggles, but when it was her turn to speak, her mind had blanked. So, instead of talking about Caleb and his betrayal, she went over the challenges of her new job and the offer she’d received to move to Detroit.

  She wanted to tell herself that she couldn’t talk about Caleb because the pain was too intense. It used to be that when her thoughts turned to him, it felt as though someone was carving out her heart with a melon baller. And finding out the man she’d loved and trusted had cheated on her, well, that should have knocked her flat. But it hadn’t.

  The initial shock had numbed her, but when that had worn off, resignation had settled in rather than pain. Caleb had been a flesh-and-blood man who made mistakes like everyone else. When he’d joined the army, he’d told Connie he didn’t want her waiting for him, that she should see other men while he was deployed. She’d thought him noble, and scoffed at the idea of dating anyone else.

  She shook her head. Maybe he’d broken up with her for more selfish reasons. Maybe he’d wanted to see other people, and didn’t want to cheat on her again to do so. And if she was being honest with herself, she had to acknowledge that she and Caleb had grown apart in those last couple of years. Become different people with different needs. They’d been a couple since before she could drive. It was too much to expect that they’d have made it for the long haul.

  But he should have told her he’d cheated. If Caleb had still been alive, he would have gotten an earful about being honest, no doubt. But it was almost a relief, the knowledge. Her boyfriend hadn’t been perfect, and she didn’t have to spend her life honoring his memory and trying to live up to his worthiness. She could cherish their time together, forgive him for his mistake, and move on. And maybe forgive herself for her mistakes, too.

  Connie sat in her Jeep, engine running and a/c blasting, but she didn’t drive. She didn’t want to go home and putter around her house alone. Or worse, face her dad trying to wheedle more money out of her. It was a beautiful Saturday, and she wanted to spend it with friends.

  Turning off the ignition, she climbed out of her Jeep and strode down the sidewalk, heading for Main Street. She passed a new addition from the rogue knitter, a rainbow-colored wool sheath wrapped around a parking meter, and smiled. Whoever was doing this should give knitting lessons. The patterns on the projects were so colorful and intricate, Connie was almost tempted to buy some needles and learn the craft.

  The maple trees lining Main Street were a hodgepodge of faded greens and fiery oranges, their leaves just starting to change color. She strolled a block under their shade, peering into storefronts and enjoying the day. When she reached The Pantry, she entered, the bell above the door announcing her arrival.

  Several four-tops were pushed together, with Allison seated at one end of the makeshift table. A large group filled the remaining seats. Jerome, in his police blues, sat next to Allison, writing something on a small notepad. Sadie and Colt were at the other end, Sadie looking over a list and Colt looking more interested in the burger in front of him than the meeting. Miss Eugenie and Mrs. Garcia were planted in the far corner, heads together, ignoring the man on Mrs. Garcia’s other side who kept trying to talk to them. Allison looked up, and a genuine smile of welcome broke across her face.

  Connie fought against the burn of tears, refusing to show how much that small gesture of acceptance touched her. But considering where the two women had been a couple of months ago, that smile was a huge victory. For the past couple years, Connie had been unhappy. She’d hated that without Caleb she’d become directionless, had started skipping a lot of her law courses. Hated that without a man by her side, she’d felt insecure and unwanted. Basically had hated herself.

  And because she’d been miserable, she’d lashed out at others, including the confident platinum blonde with whom she’d once been good friends. Forgiveness was a gift not to be underrated.

  She took an empty stool at the counter, close to Allison. “Hi. What’s going on?” She nodded at the group.

  Jerome greeted her, and went back to his notes.

  “It’s a meeting of the volunteers for the Founders’ Day Parade.” Allison reached overhead and stretched, her breasts straining against her blue T-shirt. “It’s coming up fast and there’s lots to do.”

  Connie nodded. The annual event kicked off with a 10K race, followed by a parade and midway. On the flyers posted around town, she’d seen that this year’s theme for the parade was Pineville’s Past, Present, and Future. The parade ended at the parking lot of a local school, where the midway was set up. The ceremony naming the Citizen of the Year was held at the end of the fair.

  Connie had run in the race previous years, but hadn’t signed up for this one.
With her new job and first case, she’d felt too frazzled to think about participating. But maybe there was still time to register. She looked around the tables for sign-up sheets, and caught Miss Eugenie’s eye. Connie waved a greeting.

  Leaning in toward Allison, she cocked her head at the older women. “You let the tree twins on this holiday committee? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?”

  Jerome snorted, but kept his head down.

  “Don’t worry. The rest of us keep their crazy in check,” Allison said.

  A waitress walked up behind the counter, coffee pot in hand. “Would you like a cup? Or something else?”

  Flipping the pre-set mug over, Connie said, “Yes to the coffee. Thanks.” She’d already eaten lunch, and dinner was a couple hours’ away, but it smelled so good in the diner that she ordered a bowl of soup. Only to change her mind. “I’ll have a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie instead.”

  Allison raised an eyebrow. “Dessert before dinner? You rebel.”

  It was sad that in Connie’s new, reformed life, that was a minor act of rebellion. She tried to be disciplined in all areas: work, fitness, diet. And oh my God, was that her entire life? Her work and her health? She sighed. Damn, she was pathetic. No wonder she’d started drinking.

  She thought about David’s kiss in her driveway and perked up. That had been reckless. Not disciplined at all. And if she had to admit it, one of the best kisses of her life.

  “What’s put that dreamy look on your face?” Allison asked. “I know my pie is good, but just thinking about it doesn’t cause that smile. You need to put a bite in your mouth first before my cooking takes you to a happy place.”

  Connie fiddled with the fork laid out on a paper napkin in front of her. “Well, I do really like rhubarb.”

  Allison shook her head, snorting with laughter.

  “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Allison,” Mrs. Garcia said in a voice that expressed anything but. “Maybe when all the rest of us are done working, we can join in the festivities.”

  Allison rolled her eyes, but turned back to the group with a smile. “Sorry about that, but I think my tasks are done. I’ve gotten confirmation from all the food suppliers. Mark, here”—she jerked her head at the man sitting on her other side—“says he has all the tents we need on order. I just need to pick up a couple more volunteers to work the booths, and my part is done.”

  Mrs. Garcia flattened her lips in disapproval. “That’s all well and good, but don’t distract the rest of us.”

  Allison saluted the woman.

  Mrs. Garcia tucked her chin, adding another roll to her neck. “And until you have all your volunteers lined up, your part isn’t done.”

  “I can help,” Connie said. Fifteen pairs of eyes swiveled to her. “I mean, uh, if Allison needs a volunteer…”

  “You’d volunteer for our Founders’ Day event?” Mrs. Garcia’s voice oozed disbelief, and Connie couldn’t help but be offended.

  She set her jaw. “Yes, I can volunteer.” Turning to Allison, she asked a bit anxiously, “Right?”

  Before Allison could respond, Miss Eugenie jumped in. “I think what Debbie is trying to say is that you’ve never helped out before on Founders’ Day. We hadn’t considered that you’d be interested.”

  “Well, I am.” Connie crossed one leg over the other and clasped her hands together over her knee, her back a razor-sharp line. She gazed around the table at her neighbors. She wanted to be a part of their community, but she wouldn’t beg for it. “I’d like to help out, but if you don’t want my assistance, that’s okay with me.” She lifted her chin. Ever since she’d put her life back on track, she’d wanted the approval of these people. And she still wanted it. But she didn’t need it, and realizing that, all the tension in her muscles seeped away. She would be okay alone.

  “Of course we want your help,” Jerome said, and everyone nodded in agreement. “If I could stick a badge on you and have you patrol with me, I would. Once people get a few beers in them, it’s amazing how stupid they can get.” His expression became pinched. “And the littering…”

  Okay, obviously Officer Davis wasn’t a big fan of working the event. But she was hoping it would be a lot of fun. “Allison, you need someone to work in a booth?”

  Leaning over, the blonde snatched a clipboard out of Mark’s hands and ignored his yelp of surprise. She flipped to a page and handed the board to Connie. “Take your pick.”

  Connie looked at the options, and picked up the pen dangling from the clipboard, attached by a string. She put her name on one of the empty lines, and handed it back to Allison.

  “The cotton candy booth.” Allison slipped the clipboard back to Mark. “Bold choice.”

  “I like cotton candy.”

  Allison lifted her shoulders. “You might not after Founders’ Day.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” Connie said. She cocked an elbow on the counter behind her and leaned back.

  Jerome leaned over and patted her arm, the leather in his duty belt creaking with the movement. “Don’t worry. My shift ends after the Citizen of the Year ceremony. I’ll come over after that and see if you’re surviving.”

  Allison scooted her chair closer to Jerome and lowered her voice. “Speaking of, can you believe David Carelli is up for that award?”

  Jerome shrugged. “I guess he has the same right to it as anyone else.”

  Allison loosed a disgusted breath. “Always trying to keep the peace.”

  “Well, I won’t be so tactful.” Mark leaned across the table. “It’s disgusting.”

  Connie’s good mood leaked out of her like air from a punctured tire. She spun her stool back to face the counter. Her piece of pie had been placed at her setting, the vanilla ice cream half melting and forming a white pool around the pastry. She stabbed her fork into the pie and took a bite. Why did his name always have to come up in conversation? Couldn’t she have one damn day without him invading her thoughts? One night free of him in her dreams?

  She shoveled in another mouthful, and let the explosion of flavors on her tongue soothe her irritation. She focused on the delicious pie. Sweet with one bite, tart with the other. Sort of like David. But whereas in pie the combination of flavors formed a perfect union, in a man, she wasn’t so sure.

  “He doesn’t think of anyone but himself,” Connie heard Allison say behind her. “His whole life all he’s done is look out for number one. Well, most of his life. I actually rather liked him in high school.”

  Connie clenched the fork in her hand, telling herself to stay out of it. He didn’t deserve her defense. But the vulnerability in his eyes when he’d told her about his nephew ate at her. She put her fork down and turned around.

  “David might be a lot of things, but selfish isn’t one of them,” Connie told them. “He gave up his dream to play baseball and went into business to take care of his sister when their parents died. He put her through college.”

  Allison’s forehead wrinkled. “I thought their parents left them money.”

  “Well, not enough,” Connie said. “He built his business so he could take care of her and her son. That’s not selfish.”

  Jerome pursed his lips. “I knew she had a kid, but she left Pineville so soon after having the baby. I wonder if she ever got married.”

  Connie shook her head. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

  “Well,” Mark blustered, “that doesn’t excuse everything he’s done.”

  “No, not everything.” But it explained a lot. Connie rubbed her lips. In her mind, he was becoming more sweet than tart every day.

  Allison cocked her head. “I’m surprised you’re defending him. I thought you hated him ever since he started the whole Crazy Connie thing.”

  Connie’s cheeks heated. That sounded so juvenile. “I did.” She cleared her throat. “I mean I do.”

  Allison got to her feet and pushed her chair in. “Your firm must be happy you’re on this case.”

/>   “What do you mean?” Connie asked.

  Circling behind the counter, Allison shot her a devious smile. “Nothing motivates a woman to kick some ass more than righteous revenge.”

  Connie stared at her half-eaten slice of pie. Was that the kind of woman she wanted to be? Someone who held a grudge longer than her dad could hold a job? Granted, that wasn’t very long, but she didn’t want to be bitter for even a day. And was that what Pineville thought of her? That she was so resentful she’d let a minor grudge control her life?

  Allison refilled her glass of soda, and leaned a hip against the counter across from Connie. She took a sip of cola. “Yeah, your bosses knew what they were doing when they put you on the CCWP case. They’re lucky they have you.”

  Connie pushed a piece of rhubarb around on her plate. “Maybe not for long.”

  “How’s that?” Allison drew her brows down, and chewed on her straw.

  Connie shrugged. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Are you thinking about quitting?” Allison leaned over the counter, and lowered her voice. “But you just started. I thought you liked being an attorney.”

  “I do. A lot.” The tines of her fork scraped across her plate with a high-pitched screech, and she put the utensil down. “It’s just…” Connie glanced around, and leaned closer to Allison. “I have another job offer. A good one. But it’s in Detroit.”

  “Good enough to leave Pineville for Detroit?” Allison said “Detroit” like it was one of Dante’s circles of hell. But a city full of people with no pre-conceived notions of her sounded a lot more like heaven to Connie.

  “Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.” Connie sipped at her coffee. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t say anything about this until I make up my mind.”

  Allison flapped a hand. “Of course. My lips are sealed.” She shook her head, her blonde curls flying. “Detroit.” She pushed off the counter. “Well, until you decide, at least you’ll be able to make David miserable. Anything you can do to make his life difficult is always appreciated. That man should be in jail.”